Seducing the Sergeant (3 page)

Perez, as usual, had proclaimed she was in lust with him and would be in his bed and impaled on his cock before nightfall. His boasting had been cut off when Dolly, the blow-up sheep, had hit him on the back of the head. Normally an inflatable sex toy was pretty harmless, except when thrown by a shifter. Perez was now in the med-bay with a concussion due to a sex-toy-related injury, something the squad wouldn’t let him live down for at least a month.

Ren shrugged, his towel slipping from one broad shoulder onto his arm. He paused to hang it on a hook then stripped off. Cam took longer, slowing down to enjoy the view as Ren’s hard, soldier’s body was revealed in all its naked glory.

“She’ll do.”

Cam blinked. “Wait. What?”

He’d been expecting something derisive—some caustic comment about pretty little human women getting hurt when they tried to play with the big boys. Dogs. Whatever.

Ren turned to spear him with a dark gaze. “Ferris. She’ll do. Are you getting naked sometime today or what?”

“Er, did you miss that she’s human?”

Curious, Cam trailed Ren into the shower. He wasn’t so curious as to miss the chance to ogle the bigger dog’s rear. God, the man had an ass on him. Firm and tight enough to crack nuts between the cheeks. Heat flooded Cam’s body again, his dick punching to full mast in a heartbeat, leading the way like a damn solar flare.

“Nope.”

Ren stepped into one of the larger cubicles and punched buttons, setting the water temperature. With Rennick being squad corporal, he’d been delayed in debrief, so there were just the two of them in the showers now. Not that Cam cared. It just meant that they got less shouts to get a room.

“Nope, you didn’t miss that she’s human?” Cam all but growled in frustration. He’d always known that Ren was a man of few words, but this was ridiculous. It would be easier to get blood from a damn stone.

Ren shot a look over his shoulder as he hit the button for the shower. Needle-fine sprays pummelled their skin and stole the breath right from Cam’s lungs.

“No, I didn’t miss that she’s human. Nor did I miss the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. A lightning bolt.”

Cam’s eyebrows shot up so fast that if they weren’t attached, they’d have come right off the top of his head. There was only one unit who used that insignia, and they were the stuff of nightmares, even for a weredog.

“Fucking hell. A death squadder? I thought they were all dead. Killed in the Lusaar campaigns?”

Ren reached out and pulled Cam into the circle of his arms. The water sprayed over them as the larger man turned him and pressed him back against the hard tile, his even harder cock pressing against Cam’s stomach.

“Can’t have been. Now, less talking…more fucking.”

Ugh, what a long-ass day.

Wynter rubbed at her eye with the heel of her hand as she walked through the empty barracks, her pack slung across one shoulder. Looked like the dogs had all hit the mess hall, which suited her fine. She needed to settle in.

Hard to believe that she’d started the day on the
Raptor
two sectors over, living out of her pack as they shunted her from unit to unit, and now was ending it with a permanent assignment with, delight of delights, an actual place to lay her head.

The stink of sweat—her own—rose to her nostrils as she dumped her pack at the foot of the bed. Sure, the CS’s room-cum-office was smaller than the closets she’d had growing up, and it had no en suite, but she didn’t care. A bunk was a bunk. And a shower was a shower. Something she needed. Badly.

Unzipping her boots to ditch them, she stripped off in record time and grabbed a light robe from the closet by the bed. It was clean, which was more than could be said for anything in her pack. She offered up a swift prayer in thanks that Major Cooper had authorized a trip to the quartermaster. Everything she needed from the skin out would be delivered at some point tonight.

Which meant all she had to do now was get clean and sleep.

She cinched the waist of the robe tight, grabbed a towel from the closet, pulled the wash bag from her pack, and stepped out of the room. Her bare feet were silent on the cold, metal deck plating of the floor as she made her way to the showers.

All barracks on Coalition ships were laid out the same, so she had no problems finding her way. Which was a blessing, really, with how tired she was. The last thing she needed was to walk into someone’s office or find herself locked in a janitor’s closet.

Steam issuing from the shower area told her that the barracks weren’t as deserted as she’d thought. Must be a few stragglers. She grunted to herself as she dropped her wash bag to the bench, a very inelegant sound her mother had despaired over when she was still alive. If whoever it was wanted food, then they’d better get a move on. Weredog appetites were legendary, as was the speed with which the mess got cleared of anything edible.

Leaving the robe and towel hung on a hook, she padded naked into the shower area. Despite her bluster earlier about speed and strength, namely her lack of it compared to the weredogs, she wasn’t worried about her personal safety. She’d checked, and only Camden in her squad was a lifer—a con who had traded his sentence for service to the Coalition—and all the reports said he was wasn’t a danger to anything other than bugs. She flicked a glance down at the bolt tattooed on the inside of her wrist. Besides, some of the things the big C had done to keep up with the enemy meant that there were worse things to be than a weredog.

“Oh god, yeah baby. Do that again.”

The deep male voice, full of lust and rough with heat, stopped her in her tracks. Eyes wide, she tried to peer through the veil of steam to see what was going on. Had one of the dogs smuggled in a lover? The sound of slurping, the sounds of sex, reached her ears as she strode forward, the reprimand already on her lips.

She stalled midstep.

There, in the end cubicle, was Corporal Rennick. He leaned against the wall, his head thrown back, with a look of utter pleasure on his face. He groaned, the cords in his neck standing out as though he fought to hold himself still. Her gaze shifted lower.

The strong neck flowed into the broadest set of shoulders she’d ever seen, the heavy muscles hinted at by the T-shirt he’d worn earlier now revealed. Her mouth watered as everything female in her woke up and took notice.

He moved, the muscles in his arm and shoulder flexing. She followed the arm down past the hard chest, with its collection of scars and campaign tattoos, past the washboard abs that flexed and released as he pumped his hips, to the hand. His fingers were threaded through the hair of a man on his knees, head bobbing up and down as he sucked Rennick off. Camden.

Fuck. She started to turn but another groan stopped her. She wasn’t normally into guy-on-guy action, but there was something about seeing them together, two such hard, masculine men pleasuring each other, that made her knees weak.

Stepping back half a step into the transient cover of the steam, she leaned against the wall. Heat hit her cheeks as Rennick pulled Camden up, the younger man releasing his cock with a
pop
, and turned him around. Face flushed, the smaller weredog bent over the waist-high divider between the stalls and spread his legs.

Oh god, were they going to go at it right here? Wynter couldn’t tear her eyes away from Rennick’s cock. Thick and broad, it arched up to his stomach proudly, as though to proclaim his virility. She ached to wrap her lips around it just as Camden had done, licking the tiny bead of precum right from the tip. She’d never had a weredog, but she’d heard they were voracious lovers. Pity Rennick and Camden were into guys. She’d have happily taken one of them for a trial run.

Or both.

Maybe together.

The bolt of lust that hit her at the thought of being between them both, one thick dick in her cunt as the other slid deep into her ass, almost brought her to her knees. Biting her lip to smother her gasp, she wrapped a hand around the shower pipe above her and slid her other hand between her thighs. Fuck, she was slick and wet, her own juices sliding down her legs as her body really got on board with the ideas swirling through her head.

In front of her Rennick squirted something into his hand, then smoothed them down between his partner’s ass cheeks. Lube, had to be. Camden stiffened for a second, then groaned as Rennick pumped slowly, reaching around with the other hand to fist his cock in short, fast movements.

“Shit, Ren, if you don’t get inside me I’m gonna blow right now,” he begged, his voice hoarse with his dog.

Body alive with heat and need, Wynter slid her fingers along her pussy lips, collecting the slick wetness there and rubbing it over her clit. God, this was so hot. Wrong, but fucking hot. She drove a finger deep into her cunt, then another, finger fucking herself as she watched the two men in front of her.

Rennick pulled back. He dumped more lube in his hand then gripped his shaft, fisting it until it was slick and shiny in the overhead lights. Fuck, he had the thickest cock. What would that feel like inside her…parting her as she impaled herself on it?

She stifled her whimper as Rennick spread his partner’s ass cheeks, dipping his knees to fit his cock against the other man’s hole. Then, slowly, he pushed inside with a slow, seesawing movement that drew a low, quivering moan from the other man’s lips. Wynter froze, her thumb against her clit, at the look on Camden’s face as Rennick’s hips met his ass. Utter ecstasy.

“God, yeah. Fuck me, fuck me now,” he begged, pushing back against the other man.

Rennick didn’t appear to need any further encouragement. With a growl he pulled back, gripped Camden’s hips, and thrust back in again. And again. And again. With each hard drive, the younger man moaned with pleasure, bucking back against his partner so that their hips met in a slap of skin on skin. Grunts and groans mingled with masculine moans as the two weredogs fucked hard.

She shouldn’t still be here, but Wynter couldn’t make herself walk away. Her fingers slipped from her pussy to circle and tease at her clit. The tension in her slender frame rose and tightened to the accompaniment of the men’s pleasure.

“That’s it, take it all,” Rennick growled, reaching around again. The sight of it all: the bigger man covering his smaller partner, his large, scarred fist pumping an equally delicious-looking cock, was too much for Wynter. Another rub of her fingers over her clit, and she came apart.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out as wave after wave of pleasure cascaded through her body, rendering her boneless. Her body sagged against the wall, held up only by her grip on the pipe as she rode it out.

Seconds later she came to, Rennick’s growl and the fast slap of skin on skin telling her that the men were almost finished. Her cheeks had heated enough to rival a supernova. She couldn’t be caught in here, watching them. Slipping from the shower area, Wynter grabbed her stuff and fled.

Wynter pulled her leg back and slammed her foot into the door in front of her in a solid kick. The top hinge gave way as the door burst inward. She didn’t pause, pulling a grenade from the belt slung across her body. She yelled the warning as she took cover to the side of the door.

“Fire in the hole!”

The explosion took the remaining hinge off the door, reducing it to matchsticks that rained down on Wynter and the two men with her. First through the door, she swept her rifle in a quick arc. No targets. The room was empty.

“Room clear. Move on.”

The two dogs were ahead of her as she stepped back into the corridor, already at the next door. Just one more floor and they were done. Already anticipating a long, hot shower, her thoughts started to drift back to the show she’d been treated to a week ago. In that week, she’d been nothing but professional with the squad, and with Rennick and Camden in particular, but she couldn’t erase the image of the pair locked in passion.

The zip of a laser rifle discharging was her first clue that the shit was about to hit the fan. Pain stabbed into her thigh, crawling over it like a spiderweb made of fire.

“Shit. Contact. Rear!” she bellowed as she hit the deck, already firing back. At the far end of the corridor, a group of Kiinarsi crowded around, two setting up a pulse gun as the others fired back, filling the air with red and purple bolts.

“Shit.”

If they got that pulse gun going, anything in the corridor was toast. Including her and the two dogs. A growl of frustration curled her lip as she took aim, picking off the two at the front, but more and more piled around the corner, shoving the fallen out of the way to make room for more warriors.

“There are too many of them. Fall back!”

She struggled to her feet, the smell of burnt flesh rising to her nostrils even as her leg locked up for a second. Shit, she’d been hit good. The red mesh from the bolt splattered over her combat-pant leg, eating away at anything under it. Not good. She’d have to cut it out before it got too deep into the skin.

“Arrgghh…
Assholes!”

The bellow transformed her pain into anger as she ran, firing blindly behind her until she reached cover. Blue bolts filled the air around her, Kiinarsi chitters of pain—at least she hoped it was pain—following each one. Then a broad shoulder looped under her arm on her injured side, half picking her up as she ran.

“Hang in there, Sarge, we got you.” Camden’s voice was low and reassuring. Of course, it would have been more reassuring if a red bolt hadn’t passed between them, so close that she felt the heat of it across her cheek.

“
DIE BUGS!”
Rennick yelled, fighting in human form for once, as he fired back at the insects. His face was contorted in a mask of rage, the bright amber of his dark eyes telling her that his dog wasn’t far away.

Camden barreled them past, used a big shoulder to break the next door down. Ever the soldier, Wynter had her rifle up, sweeping the room almost before the door had shattered into matchsticks around them.

“Fuck, they got you good, Sarge.”

Camden set her down on a low couch in the middle of the room, his eyes already on the web over her thigh. Even now the stench rising and the numbness told her it was bad. She pulled the heavy blade from her boot and handed it to him.